


Red

by typ0queen



Category: BTOB, K-pop
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Romance, BTOB AU, BTOB Fanfic, BTOB x OC, F/M, Lee Minhyuk Angst, Lee Minhyuk Fanfic, Lee Minhyuk Fanfiction, Lee Minhyuk Imagine, Romance, Sad, btob fanfiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 06:13:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24346306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/typ0queen/pseuds/typ0queen
Summary: Agatha's life of daily charity works, academic achievement, and daily tea parties, will be turned upside down when a man named Red (BTOB Lee Minhyuk) moved in to town.





	1. I'm Still Waiting

**Author's Note:**

> The story is told in fragments and is note in chronological order

I'm gonna start at the end.

The end of a beautiful story.

The story of how I met a beautiful angel.

The angel who turned out to be chaos.

His name is Red.

And like a hurricane in the middle of a spring day, he came and swept me off my feet.

I held on to his every word, to his every touch. I held on to how his kisses ignited a fire inside me that was always there but was kept in a box in fear that it was too bright to blind the people around me.

He was the start. He was also the end.

As I sat in the middle of a shabby motel room located in some corner of a country, I waited for him to come back.

I waited for the door to open and to see him standing there with a huge smile on his face.

I sat unmoving on top of the bed where just last night he held me in his arms and told me that he loved me. He kissed the top of my head and I buried my face on his chest inhaling his scent.

I should've known that time.

If I did, would I be able to stop him?

If I did, I could've tried.

Maybe I wouldn't have to wake up with an empty bed and a head filled with questions.

Why?

Why go when last night he told me that he would burn hell for me?

Why go when what we had was more than just a dream?

We promised to run away together. Away from the judging eyes of the world.

That day when we stood on top of that cliff, the tips of our toes centimeters away from that high fall, I promised that I would go with him to the end of the universe.

I was afraid of heights but I held his hand and trusted him. I knew that he wouldn't let me fall, and if I did, I knew he would jump after me.

Promises.

The sun is setting, it's almost night. Will he still come back?


	2. Fragment 1: After You Left

“Agatha, are you ok?”

_ No, I’m not. _

“Agatha,” that’s a man’s voice. “Do you need more time?”

I blinked and found myself in the middle of my house’s living room. A police officer sat opposite me, holding a small notebook, the pen he was holding was hovering on top of the page as he waited for me to answer. His voice was patient, calm, and controlled. He must’ve done this a dozen of times before.

I glanced at the French window behind him. The sun was still high up the sky. The leaves on the trees outside were gently swaying; an indication that it is kind of windy outside.  _ How long have I been talking to him? When did I start talking to him? _

I felt a light pat on my left shoulder. I looked and saw my father sitting beside me, his eyes filled with worry for his only daughter. New worry lines started to appear on his forehead.  _ Since when did he start to look this old? _

I always remembered my father as someone who smiles widely at me whenever I come home and bring trophies for the competitions I’ve won at school. He was always proud of me—proud of the academic achievements I’ve been making since I was a kid. I would often hear him say to his business partners that I would be the one to follow his footsteps and take over the family business.

He never needed to worry about me. He always knew that I would always make the smart decision.

_ I’m sorry, Dad. But I am not regretting everything that happened _

“I’m tired,” my voice was somewhere in the middle of whispering and pleading.

I heard my father sigh loudly, “I’m sorry officer. Let’s just call it a day for now.”

“Of course, Mr. Clay.” The officer started to get up and so did my father. They headed for the front door and left me in the living room.

I heard them whisper to themselves and somehow, I knew what they were talking about. Quietly, I followed them and eavesdropped.

“Mr. Clay,” the officer started, “If we want to prosecute him, we should get your daughter’s statement. I’m sure you wanted that to happen.”

Dad was silent for a few seconds. “I know. I’ll get her to talk. That man must’ve gotten to her head.”

“I’m not surprised. He’s a known con man. He also has multiple charges of assault, trespassing, and suspected robbery under his belt. I’m not supposed to say this to any civilian but since we owe you a lot I’ll tell you about it. He was also charged with murder when he was still a minor. That man is a monster.”

_ Enough. _

I turned around and walked away from them. I can’t bear to listen to his words anymore.

Red is not a murderer. Red is not a monster.


	3. Fragment 2: Little Moth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story is told in fragments and is note in chronological order

I could hear the muffled music from outside of the club.

_ Am I really going to do this? _

“Can someone like you really go to a place like that?” Red’s words popped-up in my head. “If you really want to get to know me then meet me at the Zone Bar.” I remembered how he looked at me from head to toe before meeting my eyes and saying with a smirk: “If you can.”

_ Screw it! I’m going inside. _

I pulled my baseball cap lower and hoped to God that no one recognized me.

After passing through the entrance, what greeted me was something I just saw in movies. The music was definitely louder inside. Lights of different colors blinked to the rhythm and filled the dark bar. Bodies close to each other danced, and jumped. Arms thrown up to the air or clinging to waists or shoulders can be seen in every corner. Everything was new to me, everything stunned me in awe.

I can’t remember how long I stood by the entrance, mildly aware of the people nudging me to the side for them to get inside the place.

It took me a few moments to recover myself and remember why I came.

Through the dizzying light, I squinted and tried to look for him.

It was hard but after a few minutes of squeezing myself between the crowd of people, I finally found him on the second floor of the bar. He was huddled with people I was not familiar with; men and women wearing clothes that could be considered vulgar in our neighborhood. They were beautiful and stunning people nonetheless. But the one who stood up the most was him.

He was wearing a wrinkled jacket suit, unbuttoned to show his white, ripped shirt inside. His hair was disheveled in a way that made him look like he just woke up or someone had just ruffled it. He had his feet up on the table in front of him and his arms resting behind him as he leaned back on the couch.

My gaze travelled up to his face, his lips, his nose. And then, I met his eyes.

He looked straight into my eyes.

_ How long has he been staring at me? _

I felt a cold shiver down my spine but I can’t look away. I don’t want to.

In the midst of the noise and the crowd surrounding us, my mind told me to go to him. Slowly, I found my way to Red and as I got closer, I saw a small smirk form on his lips.

The people around him became aware of my presence when I stood directly in front of him. I felt a small rush of embarrassment because of all the eyes that were curiously observing me. But his presence was far greater. Soon, he was all that I could see.

Now that I could see every detail of him up close, I didn’t know what to do next. He told me to meet him here but I had no idea what I should say or do.

He regarded me as he played with the lighter in his hand. Without cutting his gaze at me, he brought up the lighter and flicked it open in front of him. The light of the fire danced on his face.

He closed the lighter without uttering a word and stood up to face me.

We stood in front of each other, the tip of his shoes almost touching mine.

“You really came,” I could feel his breath on my face. The smell of alcohol lingered in the air.

I had to look away. His gaze was burning me.

“You know,” I heard him say. “A moth who stands too close to the fire will burn and die.” He touched my chin and tilted my head up so that I was staring back at him. He leaned to my ear and whispered, “Are you ready, little moth?” 

**Author's Note:**

> The story is told in fragments and is note in chronological order


End file.
